


Dear Diary (Kylux Edition)

by 221b_hound, AtlinMerrick, Winklepicker



Category: Kylux adjacents - Fandom, Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AUs all over the place!, Buckle up - it's going to be a cracktastic ride, From the same writers who brought you the crackfest "Hot Rocks", M/M, More characters added as this goes along..., Some stories will be explicit many will not just FYI, alternate univeres
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25627186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winklepicker/pseuds/Winklepicker
Summary: Crazy-pants wee diary entries of all versions of Kylux.(From the same writers who brought you the crackfestHot Rocks. Oh, and please prompt if you so wish; thank you. The Management)
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Clan Techie (Dredd)/Matt the Radar Technician, Clyde Logan/Stensland (Crash Pad)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 55





	1. Ouch ouch ouch (Clyde Logan)

Dear Diary,

Stensland came in to the bar again today and I went and dropped a beer mug onto my foot. There's a bruise now. It was a big mug.

It was on account of the 100 degree temperatures today and him walking in wearing nothing but flip-flops, a crop top, and shorts that were… _short._ I try to be polite and all, but it's hard not to see a butt cheek right in front of you when the butt cheek is jiggling out the bottom of a pair of really short shorts.

Anyway, the mug broke after it bounced off my foot and cause I was jumping around yelling "Ouch ouch ouch," I accidentally kicked it into the wall and then broken glass got everywhere and Stensland came over and started flapping his hands like he does – it always makes me think of an adorable red-haired bird – and he tried to pick up the glass and I tried to stop hopping around going "Ouch ouch ouch" and long-story-short he cut his hand after I accidentally kicked him in the head and then I fell down and nearly got a concussion.

Sylvie was great and fixed us up real good, and now we're sitting on a park bench and Stensland's letting me hold his poor hand while he keeps patting my knee because he can't reach my toe.

I am so in love it hurts. (Kinda literally; I think I need another pain pill.)


	2. Buttons (Ben Organa)

Dear diary

So, that Hux guy with the posh name was in again today. Doing that browsing thing he does where he pretends he couldn’t care less about any of the clothes he’s rifling through and that he’s not checking me out over the top of the racks.

And he was sucking up a Slurpee when it clearly says “No Food or Drink” on the door. Right next to the new shipment of linen shirts from Frenn no less.

He’s infuriating.

I had to talk to him. He thought we were playing some kind of breaking-the-ice chicken but I wasn’t playing that game anymore. I decided I was playing the I’ll-talk-first-and-thenceforth-be-the-mature-one-in-this-relationship-that-isn’t-a-relationship-just-yet game.

“You can’t drink that in here,” I said, with an air of authority befitting a junior assistant manager.

He flashed his eyes at me, like two shiny green marbles thrown out of a slingshot right at my face. There was a ferocity in them that morphed into mischief as I watched. He batted a wheat field of eyelash and slowly, deliberately, puckered his pink pillowy lips around his straw and ssssssucked.

I swallowed the copious saliva that was pooling in my mouth and decided it was now or never.

“So. Do you like... stuff?” There. How could he resist my charms.

He licked his lips, considered me for a moment and said, “I like to take pictures.”

“Oh?” said I. 

“Indeed,” said he.

He stepped closer, then closer still, until the knuckles encircling his Slurpee cup were pressed right above my belly button. Thank goodness they weren’t any lower or there’s no telling what state the store would have been in come next morning. 

Even so, his knuckles found the divot of my navel and gave it a good rummage while the fingers of his other hand began to crawl their way up my shirt front, plucking away at my buttons one by one.

There was a distinct lack of oxygen in the air. Or possibly I forgot to inhale.

“I like to take pictures of buttons,” he said.

I was blindsided. Bewildered. Bamboozled. “Buttons?” I whimpered.

“Buttons,” he murmured, as my shirt fell open with an answering whisper.


	3. Dee is a Genius (Senator Kylo Amidala)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Senator of Naboo is having a _crisis_ and this is _serious._

Dear D-i4RY

When did I acquire _this_ much lingerie?

Sweet maker I must pare things down or I'll go through this crisis again, and yes, before you roll your eyes impatiently—

[The droid diary does not have eyes. It can not roll them at Senator Amidala in any fashion whatsoever.]

—this _is_ a crisis. I must wear something absolutely perfectfor my liaison with Senator Armitage Hux.

But the pearl-trimmed red thigh highs, the silver velvet panties and bralette, the filmy floor-length babydoll—ugh. They all seem so try-hard. Especially paired with the black stilettos with the kyber heels.

I know I have nothing to prove to the Arkanian senator, and we've met dozens of times over trade routes and taxes and treaties, but I want him to see me as more than a serious, stiff-backed politician in ceremonial headdress and cape. I just—what? Oh! Oh Dee, you _genius!_

*** _Three Days Later ***_

Dearest Dee,

My darling Armitage and I are engaged! Yes, it was a bit of a whirlwind and yet not at all, and I have you to thank for it.

Truly, waltzing into his chambers the other night in nothing but my kyber heels and a glow-in-the-dark red condom, we laughed so much we never even had _sex._

Now, sweet _maker_ I need lingerie for the honeymoon. Oh this is a _crisis._


	4. Enough (Matt and Techie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt the Radar Technician and his Techie will never be remembered as great diarists - but what they write is good enough for them, and for each other.

Matt the Radar Technician has a work diary, filled mostly with maintenance schedules, lists of parts required that still haven’t been delivered for fixing that kriffing subspace pulse radar on the west turret fin of the Finalizer, because apparently subspace pulse radars don’t count, or that one doesn’t, because there are three others on the array and you know, why did the ship architects put in four if three would do then, hey? But no no no, the supervisor knows best, and if an enemy blows them all into misty fragments at one with the kriffing Force because of the tiny gap in the detectors, he won’t get time to say I told you so.

But anyway.

That’s the work diary.

Matt has a personal diary too. He filled it in once and only once, because in that one entry it said pretty much all he had to say. It’s not like he’s a poet. It’s not like he has ten thousand ways of saying the things he’s already said. The things he wrote down on the day he was sure. Fifteen ship days after meeting Techie.

What he wrote was:

> Techie is beautiful. He makes these little copper trees and he’s like the trees because he’s shiny coppery red gold and delicate and tough at the same time and his eyes are so blue and they’re tech eyes but the way his eyelashes and eyelids and eyebrows and all the lines around his eyes move when they open and shut is more human than most humans. He’s like a transmitting tower. I don’t know how anyone says they think he’s more mech than mech. He’s thinking all the time. Curious. Scared a bit and brave a lot and he laughs like a naughty little kid and he says I make him laugh all the time. He doesn’t laugh at me though. He laughs cos I make him happy. Because I show him funny things. Because we laugh at the same things together. Techie is beautiful and he loves me and I love him. And I’m going to make him laugh every day if I can because his laugh makes me happy. Also he is really good at sex and he’s showing me how to be really good at sex. He laughs then too, but only because he’s happy and sometimes because he’s ticklish and he makes me laugh for the same reasons. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him and making him laugh and come and having really good sex.

Techie doesn’t have a work diary. He remembers anything he needs to do and he does it. Anything he doesn’t need or want to do he just doesn’t do and if anyone wants to shout about that he hides until they find some other sucker to do it. He’s too good at what he does (the things he decides he’ll do) for them to get rid of him.

And there’s Matt now. Who looks after him. Who lets Techie do some looking after too. He laughs with him and for him (and is really good at sex and getting better all the time).

Techie has a personal diary. He writes mostly the exact same thing in it every time (which are at random times) but the infinite variety in which he does it is as expressive as an epic of a hundred thousand words that takes four full solar cycles to recite.

He writes:

> Matt. _Matt_. _MATT_. Mattie. **Matt**. _Mattie_. **MATT**.

He draws hearts around some of the Matts. He draws trees, the branches and roots of which tangle to make the word Matt. He draws wiring diagrams that spell Matt. He creates constellations that spell Matt, or at least look like all of the moles and freckles on Matt’s back (and arms and belly and neck and cheek and bottom).

Once, he wrote a list.

> _I love Matt’s…_

And then pictures. Matt’s eyes, Matt’s chest, Matt’s ears, Matt’s mouth, Matt’s moles and freckles, Matt’s hands, Matt’s bum, Matt’s wonky left foot, Matt’s wonky right foot, Matt’s hair, Matt’s balls, Matt’s cock (at rest and at attention), Matt’s toes, Matt’s eyebrows, Matt’s nose, Matt’s big licky tongue, Matt’s knee, Matt’s upper lip. Fourteen pages later he stopped drawing bits and just wrote Matt’s name a hundred times with a hundred different flourishes.

Sometimes, one diary entry is enough. And sometimes, the same diary entry over and over again is never enough.


	5. My Big Beautiful Ursine (Stensland)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland has some thoughts about his gorgeous, one-armed, werebear boyfriend.

Diary! Diary! Diary!

It still works!

I had my doubts despite my beautiful bear's reassurances, but Clyde was right!

I have the proof in front of me even as I engage in my ferociously-poor thumb-typing, but how can I not help but trumpet our success!

Because right this minute my werebear of a boyfriend is sitting with his cuddly bear friends in our favourite river, watching them fish the spawning salmon. Like every other time we come, I'm both charmed by their antics and horrified by the whole eating-things-that-are-still alive thing, but to each their own I always say!

Though my fetching beau—who once a month and for a whole day is of the family Ursidae—can also catch the spawning fish, being one paw short as he is, often as not those wriggly bastards break free from my brave soldier's grasp, taking his satisfaction of an instinct fulfilled right with them upstream, leaving my poor Clyde frustrated.

Not today! Right now he's sitting in the chilly river with the satchel I made him buckled around his rotund bear-middle, and he's happily plucking out from its cavernous insides morsels of Trader Joe's finest smoked salmon.

He looks blissed out if I'm correctly interpreting his furry bear face, and I'm so excited to see what he does when he comes upon the tiny cornichon pickles I packed near the bottom.

Oo! He just popped one in his mouth. I've got to go. My big bear is waving at me to get in the water and you haven't _lived_ until you've had a bear hug from a real bear.

Toodles!

—  
_Like so much, this madness was inspired by a conversation with the other writers of this fic and[Hot Rocks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941129/chapters/24345084). Lord how dull my thoughts would be without you all! P.S. Here is Stensland's [dearest werebeau](https://atlinmerrick.tumblr.com/post/627595586563129344/dear-diary-kylux-edition-my-big-beautiful)!_


End file.
